To Make This Trivial World Sublime, Take

I Have Always Found That Angels Have The Vanity To Speak Of Themselves As The Only Wise.

Sixty Two Thousand Four Hundred Repetitions Make One Truth. Idiots!

Thought Is Barred In This City Of Dreadful Joy And Conversation Is Unknown.

That’s What The Human Brain Is There For—to Turn The Chaos Of Given Experience Into A Set Of Manageable Symbols. Sometimes The Symbols Correspond Fairly Closely To Some Of The Aspects Of The External Reality Behind Our Experience; Then You Have Science And Common Sense. Sometimes, On The Contrary, The Symbols Have Almost No Connection With External Reality; Then You Have Paranoia And Delirium. More Often There’s A Mixture, Part Realistic And Part Fantastic; That’s Religion.

When The Sun Rises, It Rises For Everyone.